


The Last Days of H*ddlesw*ft, with Cocktails at Balthazar Afterwards

by missdibley



Series: The Red Nose Diaries [43]
Category: Archipelago (2010), British Actor RPF, Suburban Shootout, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Unrelated (2007), Unrelated (2007) RPF
Genre: Angst, Dreams, Established Relationship, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Hiddlestunt, New York City, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 18:15:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8024038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: Tom and Carmen speak for the first time since their separation, and it doesn't exactly go as either of them planned. Their second post-split conversation yields some surprising revelations.





	The Last Days of H*ddlesw*ft, with Cocktails at Balthazar Afterwards

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to director Whit Stillman for bastardizing the title of his film _The Last Days of Disco_ for my own selfish purposes.

**I. Long Distance**

Carmen arrived to work on the first Tuesday of September promptly at 7:55 am. She didn’t have time to waste. She had three hours to attend three meetings, review four wireframes, and write two memos on behalf of her boss before heading to the airport for another business trip.

She was able to get both memos, one meeting, and two wireframes knocked out by 9:15. Just as she was about to sneak out for a coffee her internal line rang. Frowning at the displayed number, Carmen picked up the handset.

“Hullo?” She cleared her throat and thought, _Woman, try to sound like an adult for fuck’s sake._ “Yes. Carmen DiGregorio here.”

“Miss DiGregorio, this is Stephen.”

The image of strait-laced Stephen, one of the many young and ambitious administrative assistants who shared a block of desks two floors below, popped into Carmen’s mind.

“What is it? I thought I had a ‘do not disturb’ block put on my line until 11:00 am.”

“Yes, I understand, but you have a party who very much wished to speak with you…”

Carmen sighed. “If it’s the New York office again, they should know I’ll be there later today.”

“It wasn’t New York, ma’am.”

“Was it Muriel Heslop from the Zurich office?” She felt a pang of nervousness. “Did she sound upset? She wasn’t happy about the localization, but if she had only confirmed the translations like I asked…”

“No, Miss DiGregorio, it seemed the call was of a personal nature.”

“Personal?”

“And they said they had tried to reach you previously, for quite some time now…”

“Well, they should try again,” huffed Carmen. “I swear, my mother is such a pain in the —”

“It was a gentleman, ma’am.”

Carmen could hear almost see the squint, could hear the hesitation in his voice. “Did he give a name?”

“Erm, he did not but… I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense,” replied Stephen. “He said to tell you something about ‘an old friend from home’”.

Carmen felt cold, her shoulders stiffening in response to the chill that seemed to settle on her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Ma’am? Was I… did I get that right?”

“You did, Stephen. Thank you for your help.”

Before the young man could say any more, Carmen set the phone down, clasped her hands in her lap and waited. When it rang a minute later, she picked it up in the middle of the first ring, holding the receiver to her ear without saying a word.

“Hello?”

She didn’t reply.

“Carmen?”

She closed her eyes and breathed in, and then out.

“Tom,” she said quietly. “I am sorry for your loss.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“There hasn’t been…” Tom coughed as he cleared his throat. “Nobody’s been lost. We’re all alive and well.”

“But you said it was an old friend from home.”

“Well, I’m sorry about that.”

“That’s for emergencies only. You knew that.”

“You weren’t responding to my texts. Or to my calls. The emails.”

“My message was loud and clear.”

“This is urgent.”

“I thought we talked about how to tell the difference between what you actually think is urgency and when you are just feeling desperate.”

Tom’s breath hitched, but he said nothing in reply.

Carmen flexed the fingers of her free hand before curling them into a fist. “Was there something—”

“You returned the flowers I sent,” Tom said abruptly.

“Because it was my understanding that you only send a girl flowers when you’re trying to fuck her, not after you’ve left her for somebody else.”

“Carmen, please.”

“Anything else?”

“I wanted to be the first to tell you…”

“Don’t bother,” she replied coolly. “I’m sure I can read all about it in US Weekly. Good day.”

* * *

**II. The Ladies Final**

She read about it in US Weekly. She read about it there, in People, and in The Daily Mail. It was on E! and even mainstream news outlets like Fox News had it by the time Carmen checked into her hotel after a six hour flight from London to New York, three hours of meetings at the office on Wall Street.

It was over. Tom was single. He was free.

So what?

The events of the summer threatened to overwhelm her at times, so she coped with her heartbreak and sorrow the best way she knew — she worked long hours when she was awake, and tried not to dream about him at night. She moved to a new apartment, and seemed to be on the verge of dating again. But still the dreams came.

It helped that the week in New York had her running around town, keeping her away from a computer and the temptation to check for updates. She carried her work mobile phone, only checking her personal phone at night as she crawled into bed. The exchange hosted various parties and special events tied to two of Carmen’s favorite things: the U.S. Open and New York Fashion Week. If her employer was going to sponsor designer label after parties and exclusive brunches for up and coming tennis players, she was there to document it all. Carmen kept her nose to the grindstone, and tried not to think about the fact that the other girl was also in New York City.

 _She’s a rich and famous pop star, and I’m just a corporate bumblebee_ , Carmen thought to herself on Thursday night. She sat in the back of a taxi as it drove down Fifth Avenue, squashed in with a few tipsy colleagues. _New York is a big city. What are the odds that we’d ever be in the same place at the same time, let alone meet? What the hell would I even say? Does she even understand words that have more than two syllables? Okay, Carmen, that was mean. Stop thinking of her._

Carmen looked out the window just in time to catch the facade of The Metropolitan Museum of Art whiz past. Carmen felt her stomach lurch.

 _Well,_ she thought grimly, _what were the odds Tom would leave you for not just a celebrity but one of the most famous people in the world?_ She groaned.

_Exactly._

The one bright spot of Carmen’s week was Friday evening supper with her beloved friend and mentor Jake and his family. He and his girls were tennis nuts, arriving at [ Balthazar ](http://www.balthazarny.com/) right after watching the women’s final at the Open. They carried with them [ oversized tennis balls ](http://www.wilson.com/en-us/tennis/balls/other/us-open-jumbo-tennis-ball-pink-9-in) autographed by their favorite players. Jake’s husband George looked appalled when six year old Gramercy held up her ball for Carmen to inspect.

“Auntie Carmen, look! We got Serena Williams to sign it.” The little child looked dazzled. “She’s so pretty and strong. She’s the best. I love her.”

“Gramercy Coco, if you don’t put that thing away …!” George grimaced though Carmen oohed and ahhed.

“George, please. This is special.” She put an arm around Gramercy’s shoulder when the girl pouted at her father. She winked at Gramercy’s sister. “Chelsea Stella, you look so grown up. You sure you’re just eight and not eighteen?”

Chelsea looked up from the menu she had been studying to shoot Carmen an amused look. “You’re being silly, Aunt Carmen.”

Carmen nodded, then hung a teaspoon from her nose. “What gave me away?” She giggled when the spoon fell to the floor.

“Oh!” Gramercy looked at Jake with, her eyes wide. “Aunt Carmen dropped her spoon, Papa.”

“She can have mine, then,” replied Jake magnanimously.

“You want me to get it?” Gramercy asked, a gleam in her eye.

“Oh baby, leave it,” George said. “She just wants an excuse to go under the table and tickle our feet.”

“I do not!” Gramercy was insistent. “I can be good.”

“I have no doubt of that, sweetheart.” Carmen grinned at the little girl. “Go look at the menu with your sister. I’ll just ask for a new one when the waiter comes back.”

Before the girls squabble over who would get to hold the menu and who would try to  read the names of the dishes aloud, there was a bit of commotion near the entrance. George’s eyes lit up when he saw the flashes of cameras.

“Oh, I wonder who it could be? I hope it’s a real celebrity, not one of those indie actresses with weird teeth and bad hair.” He tried to sit up, jostling the table and spilling their glasses of water in the process.

“Honey, sit down.” Jake patted George’s hand. “Have a little dignity.”

“Listen,” said George merrily “I went to tennis with you guys. The least you can do is indulge my hobby.”

“Chasing after celebrities? Reading those magazines?” Jake shook his head. “I thought you said you were giving that up after Tom—” He stopped suddenly, exchanging stricken looks with George.

“After Tom what?” Carmen looked at George, then at Jake. “After Tom left?” She shrugged. “It’s okay. You can say it.”

“I’m sorry, Carmen,” said George softly. “Honestly, I just forgot myself…”

“Will you stop that?” Carmen reached across the table and squeezed his hand. She smiled at Jake. “Seriously. It’s okay.”

The waiter returned bearing a tray of drinks, earning tuts from the girls when they saw how the adults’ Cosmopolitans were so pink and were therefore more exciting than their modest glasses of milk.

“Cosmos?” She wiggled her nose with delight. “It’s so _Sex and The City_!”

“What’s that?” Chelsea licked the froth of milk off her lip after taking a sip.

“A television show that you will be allowed to watch when you are old enough to drink one of these.” Jake held his glass up. “A toast, boy and girls. To tennis and, um, fancy dinner.”

The waiter returned, making a small bow before flipping to a fresh sheet on his pad. “Ready to order? Are there any questions you may have?”

Chelsea held up the menu and tapped it. “How do you say that? And what is it, please?”

“Essss-car-gooo,” said the waiter carefully. “Snails cooked in garlic butter.”

Chelsea nodded. “I want that.”

Jake’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure you don’t want a cheeseburger or something, sweetheart?”

Chelsea shook her head. “I know what I want.”

Stifling a laugh, George held his hand up. “I have a question. Not about the snails, though. What was that fuss about? Who just came in the door?”

The waiter’s cheeks flushed with pleasure. “Didn’t you see? It was Taylor Swift!”

“Oh!” Carmen squeaked. She spilled some of her drink on the table, and a few drops got on her skirt. “Oh my god… what?” She looked up to find everybody looking at her.

“You okay, Aunt Carmen?” Gramercy pushed her bottom lip out. “You spilled.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Ye-yes. I’ll just…” Pushing her chair away from the table, she scanned the room. “Where’s the ladies room? I should try to get this out…”

“I’ll bring you some club soda,” the waiter said kindly. “When I come back, I’ll finish taking your orders, if that’s alright. And the stairs down to the ladies room are right over there.”

Carmen got to her feet, smiling when she felt Chelsea take one hand and Gramercy the other.

“Come on, Aunt Carmen,” Chelsea said seriously. “Let’s go freshen up. Whatever that means.”

In the end, there was no chance meeting, no awkward encounter with the infamous singer who, in her head, Carmen had been calling The Human Pool Noodle. She was able to enjoy herself. If her hand trembled a little when she picked up her fork, Gramercy would hug her arm until Carmen felt better.

A few paparazzi had staked out the restaurant, waiting for celebrities to photograph as they made their exits. Carmen didn’t notice them, and they did not seem to recognize her, as she stood in front of the restaurant. Gramercy slept in her arms, while Chelsea leaned into Jake and yawned. They were all ready for bed. George stood on the curb, checking his phone for the arrival of the Uber that would take him and his family home. When it appeared, Carmen pressed kisses to the girls’ cheeks before helping them get settled in the car.

“You sure you don’t want a lift?” Jake stuck his head out of the passenger side window. “You’re staying downtown, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s a nice night. Think I’ll walk.” Carmen waved them off, then she spun on her heel and began to head west towards Broadway, she thought she saw one of the cameras go off. She tried to resist, but couldn’t help turning to take a look. As they were across the street, she could only hear their voices, but not properly see their faces.

“Is that anybody?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Just a civilian.”

“Wait! Didn’t she go with Tom Hiddles—”

Carmen turned away and walked a bit faster. She was careful not to run. Running would be a dead giveaway, she felt, and besides that, she was wearing heels. A few more flashes, but before she could bolt in a panic, she heard them begin to shout for somebody new.

“Taylor! Over here! Here! You talked to Tom? Writing new music? When’s the album come out? Look! Over here! Here! Here!”

Carmen felt relief course through her body, relaxing her back and loosening her shoulders. Holding her head up high, she made the turn onto Broadway and didn’t look back.

The lobby of her hotel in SoHo was full of guests, all of them dressed for a night out in the city. Carmen quietly slipped through the crowd, eager to turn in early after a long week. She caught an elevator, and was momentarily excited to be alone. She closed her eyes and sighed. When she heard and felt someone else get in the carriage, she sighed again but kept her eyes shut. The soft chime and a soft voice intoning “Floor 19!”, along with the jolt of the car stopping, prompted her to open her eyes.

“Hey Carmen.”

There stood Oakley, dressed casually in khaki shorts and a blue button-down shirt that had one too many buttons left undone. The sight of his suntanned neck and chest made Carmen’s knees buckle. When they did, he laughed, then ran a hand through his curls.

He offered his hand to her. “That’s not happiness to see me. Or did you forget?”

Carmen glared at him. “You again.”

Oakley smiled, then idly scratched his stomach so Carmen could see that his shorts were on the verge of sliding off his body.

“This is just a dream,” said Carmen to herself.

“This may be a dream, but it is your dream after all. You want me here.” Oakley placed a hand over his heart. “I was invited.”

“Not fucking likely,” Carmen muttered.

“Oh, but sweetheart. Love. _Button.”_  Oakley stepped out into the corridor and extended his hand for her to take. “Didn’t you know, it’s just like the song goes. ‘A dream is a wish your heart makes’ and so here I am. To make all your wishes come true.”

* * *

**III. Pictures of The Floating World**

It didn’t usually start so early. Typically, Carmen could rely upon being able to complete her evening routine (change into pajamas, wash face, brush teeth, apply approximately seven layers of anti-aging balms and serums) and crawling into bed before the tomfoolery happened.

Or rather, the tomfuckery.

Whoever came to visit in her dreams depended on how Carmen fell asleep. If she lay on her back, with her head out of the covers, she could count on Bill Hazeldine pouncing on her, stark naked and ready to wrestle until he subdued her with a good bout of tickling. If on her side, Edward would come in to spoon her, kiss the back of her neck and finger Carmen to a long, slow release. Sir Thomas Sharpe appeared when she was burrowed under the covers, complaining that he was cold and would she be so kind as to let him warm himself between her thighs.

Loki always materialized when she fell asleep on her stomach. If he was feeling generous, he would wake Carmen up by trailing his fingers over her bare legs. Once she gave him permission to continue with a sleepy nod, Loki would pleasure her with his tongue, licking and sucking at her clit and her sex until she was begging him to let her come. If he was in a foul temper, he would take her from behind, pounding into her so hard and so fast Carmen swore her inner thighs were bruised when she woke up in the morning.

Oakley, the smug prick, liked to tease her. Pick fights with her until she had no choice but to fuck him just to shut him up. He felt the least like the Tom she knew, skinny as he was, all elbows and knees and his ass was small and soft when she dug her nails into the flesh. Carmen could smell the cigarette smoke on his breath, taste the ash when they kissed. He loved to nip at her with his teeth so he could soothe her with tongue. She’d call him an asshole and a cunt-tease, even when his cock was buried deep inside her, and her name a chant in his mouth. Everything in his body would tense, she’d tighten around him, and they’d come together before collapsing in a sweaty, satisfied heap.

No matter who it was, the encounter always ended the same way. They’d kiss her, tell her they loved her, then snuggle with her as she cried herself to sleep. In the morning, Carmen’s eyes were always red and dry. As though she had no tears left to give. Her true sorrow was private, and nobody’s business but her own.

Carmen knew she could count on Oakley for a good time. But she needed humor and consolation, comfort and a bit of perspective. She needed love.

She needed Tom.

Oakley finding her in the elevator when she believed she was still awake was puzzling. Still though, she followed him back to her room, where he stood patiently as she fumbled for the key to let them in. When he began to tug at her blouse, muttering into her neck that he wanted to take her nipples into his hot mouth, she pushed him away.

“Stop it, I have to pee.” Carmen sighed at him before kissing the top of his head.

In the bathroom mirror, Carmen could see how tired she looked. Was she supposed to have been happy that Tom was single again? Who said he was? He could be fucking some random Australian girl, or perhaps someone on the cast. There could be another singer or an actress waiting in the wings, a girl procured by Luke to be Tom’s rebound at least through awards season.

“Whoever she is,” Carmen said to her reflection. “I hope he’s paying her decently.”

She wasn’t that surprised to find Oakley gone from her bed when she returned. The men would stay for as long as she desired them, but were quick to leave if it was clear that she wasn’t in the mood. Her bed was empty, her personal mobile phone charged and untouched on the nightstand. Not sure if she was still asleep and dreaming or had somehow woken up, Carmen got in, took her beloved plush mouse Boh from his hiding place under the pillow, and fell asleep with her nose pushed into his bottom.

And then her phone buzzed. Once, and then again. The persistent if irregular buzzing of text messages as they arrived. Carmen sat up, tucked Boh in next to her, and felt around for the phone. She grit her teeth when she saw who the messages were from.

[Carmen?]

[You awake?]

[It’s morning here. Can we talk?]

[It’s Tom.]

Carmen unlocked the phone, dismissing the lock screen and the messages. She thought about flinging her phone across the room at the wall -- she was probably going to upgrade to the iPhone 7 when it came out soon, anyway -- but reconsidered. Gritting her teeth, she launched the Messages app and tapped out a reply.

[You have exactly one minute to call before I change my mind.]

“Thank you for answering.” Tom spoke in a hush when Carmen picked up.

“I wasn’t having much luck trying to sleep anyway.”

“Really? What time is it there, 8:30? That’s early.”

“It’s 9:30.”

“Oh.”

“Wait. How did you guess that? Did you know I was in New York?”

“Erm, yeah, I might have.”

“How?”

“A little bird told me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Pardon?”

‘What little bird?!”

“Darling, it was you.”

“What? How did I…” Carmen rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“It’s British Airways. I got an email of your itinerary when your ticket was booked.”

“You got my itinerary?”

“We used to do that for each other. In case of emergency. I was your family… I mean, I was your person.”

“Yeah,” Carmen huffed. “You were. And look where that got me.”

Tom inhaled sharply. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Carmen realized it wasn’t his fault. There was no need to give him shit about this. Not when she had so many other things to be angry about. “I’ll, ah, I’ll change it. Thanks.”

“Well, you don’t have to!” Tom cleared his throat. “I mean, unless you already have somebody in mind.”

“I didn’t, but, um, thanks for the offer.”

“There isn’t anybody?”

“Tom. Please. It’s been three months. Do you really think I would have moved on that quickly?” Carmen felt betrayed by the slight crack in her voice but it was too late. She wiped a tear from her cheek and tried not to cry.

“Well, no, but that was only because this was all a big sch—”

“Stop it!” Carmen cried. “Stop trying to sell me on a plan that was bullshit from the start! I hated it, and I knew you hated it too, but you did it anyway!”

“I had to try,” pleaded Tom. “And I didn’t want to involve you in it.”

“But I was. I am.” Carmen took a deep breath. “I was always going to be involved. I was invested because I love you. But the method, the way you went about it.”

“I know it seemed desperate…” Tom said.

“Yeah, but I understood. You wanted it all. You deserve it. But baby,” she whispered. “There’s no shortcut or easy way, not unless there’s a price you might not want to pay.”

“Yeah,” admitted Tom.

“Goddammit, you’re so good! You are so fucking good. And you work so hard. But this is a strange game we have to play.” She sighed. “I just wish all of your good work and your talent and your charm and your big foolish heart was enough. I really do.” When she heard Tom sob a little, her shoulders sank. “I’m sorry. I got carried away…”

“No. I love that you did. I needed to hear that.”

“Well, good, because I really needed to say that!” Carmen was glad when she heard Tom laugh. “God, I miss that sound.”

“You don’t have to, you know.”

“I…”

“If you could just…”

“Let’s… let’s just get through this phone call. Okay?”

“Right.”

“I just need some time.”

“Of course.”

“Hey Tom? Why now? Why didn’t you call me Tuesday after the news got out.”

“I thought about it, but that morning call we had.”

“Ah. Sorry about that.”

“No, I shouldn’t have used it.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. Let’s just say it was a drill.”

“Like practice for a future emergency?”

“Yeah, like if you lose an arm. That’s not an emergency, but if the hand that had been attached to that arm was clutching something I might find valuable, then yes.”

“Something you might find valuable?”

“Yes.”

“Such as?”

When Carmen heard the drawl in his voice, she thought _Should I? Didn’t I just say I needed time?_ And then she thought, _Yeah, but he’s feeding it to me. Because we’re having a good time, somehow. And it feels good. It doesn’t hurt._  She shook her head.

_God we’re idiots._

“Yeah — your dick.”

“Eheheheheheheheheheheheheh.”

“Stop it, Cambridge. You fed me that shit. You’re as much to blame for that dumb joke as I am.”

“Yes,” said Tom proudly. “I am.”

“Oh lord, here we go…”

“Hello world, get ready for the comedic stylings of Thomas William Hiddleston!”

“For fuck’s sake, what have I done!”

“And his pesky sidekick Carmen.”

“Shut up.”

“Wait, I was going to ask you something. If you don’t mind?”

“You’ve already got me talking when I could be sleeping so go for it.”

“Did you… Carmen, have your dreams taken a turn for the peculiar recently?”

She froze. “Um, they’ve always been a bit weird. Could you be more specific?”

“Have any of them featured me? I swear I’m not trying to sound like the pompous arsehole we both know that I am but…”

“Yeah,” Carmen interrupted him. “You’ve been in quite a lot of them.”

“Oh. I see. What have I been doing…”

Carmen blushed. “Do you really want me to say?”

“I’ll tell you what you’ve been doing in my dreams if you say what I’ve been doing in yours?’

“Oh god…”

“Car, I’m sorry.”

“No no! Let’s just, let’s just say I’ve been getting a lot of exercise.”

“Alright,” breathed Tom. “Same here.”

“Oh.” Carmen’s cheeks got warm. “Okay.”

“Do you think it’s possible that, seeing as how we’re dreaming of each other — reminding ourselves that we can’t possibly control what we do or who we see in our subconscious…”

“Sure, that works for me.”

“Could it be,” said Tom carefully, “That perhaps some of our dreams are one and the same?”

“Okay, what?”

“Just think about it.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Car, let me try. I think I have a way to prove this…”

“Okay,” Carmen relented.

“If I’m right, and it seems that we’re having the same dreams, then…” Tom’s chuckled. “I get to call you again.”

“Um, okay.”

“And I can call you Button.”

“What?”

“Is it a deal?”

Carmen sighed with resignation.

“Agreed?”

“Sure.”

“Shake on it?”

“I can’t shake on it but I promise you that I am making a significant gesture with my hand in the general direction of Brisbane right now.”

“Good enough. Okay, listen.” Tom took another deep breath. “A few weeks ago, did you go on a date to a pub with a bearded man?”

“I did,” said Carmen cautiously.

“Was he named Richard?”

“He was, but that’s a pretty common name, _Tom_.”

“What else did you do?”

“I _really_ don’t think that’s any of your business…”

“Carmen?”

“Fine. He walked home, I didn’t let him in, though.”

“But you snogged him, I reckon.”

“So what if I did?”

“The dress you wore. The one with the dodgy buttons that always undo…”

“You remembered that?”

“I will never forget it.”

“Tom,” sighed Carmen. “This isn’t remarkable. You’re just a really good guesser!”

“Carmen, come on!”

“Okay, fine so what happened after that?”

“You came in to find me waiting for you, only noticing after you’d changed into your bathrobe. You showered, we fought, and then you told me you loved me.”

“Tom, that’s very sweet but…”

“We made love.”

“Well, I’m sure…”

“And you said… it was another joke.” You said ‘You’re out in the world, and all of a sudden, you get bitten by a snake! A poisonous snake whose venom will kill you unless…’”

“You’re with someone who can save you,” continued Carmen. “By applying their mouth to your body, right upon the wound, and sucking the poison out as hard and as fast as they can.”

“That’s it,” said Tom. “That’s how I remembered it.”

“Uh huh,” murmured Carmen, as though in a daze. “Me too.”

“Button?” Tom whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I like your bathrobe.”

“Thanks,” whispered Carmen. “It’s new.”


End file.
